


sweater-sleeves

by chuuyikes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Humor, Coffee Shops, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Canon, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Slow Burn, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuuyikes/pseuds/chuuyikes
Summary: the classic coffee shop romance, with a little twist.curtis draws, and shiro admires it while letting his walls crumble.Hiatus! Please do add this to your Save for Later folder, it WILL be updated.





	sweater-sleeves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akuhoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akuhoe/gifts).



> We're going to blatantly ignore Arizona's real climate for the purpose of winter-y, chilly fluff. I really wanted to write something about these two, because Shiro finally got his happiness. Some people think it's a bad way to end it, but I think with proper filling-in, it's really cute. If you check out my tumblr (snowfalle-t), there are some headcanons that I wrote to inspire this. Enjoy! :)

**9 November; 12:39 P.M.**

 

The war hadn’t been the highlight of anyone’s lives. It had been long and stressful, and many lives were lost. Some families would accept it and move on, and some of them would never stop mourning. Some people didn’t lose anyone or anything, except maybe a bit of property. Curtis didn’t like being one of the few people who didn’t lose anything- he felt a bit too privileged. 

 

That didn’t make his job on the Atlas any less stressful. He still had thousands of lives on his and his crew’s hands, and he knew exactly what was at risk. However, the job did get a bit easier as he got to know his crewmates. When they weren’t busy saving the universe, they were eating or working out together. The only person he didn’t really  _ meet  _ was the captain, Shiro. 

 

He knew who Shiro was, and he knew his story. How he’d gone off to space with two members of the Holt family, and he wasn’t expected to come back. Assumed dead, along with those he went up with. It seemed like an amazing thing when he’d first heard about it, but now? Now, he’d experienced space and war himself, and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. That’s not to say space wasn’t absolutely stunning, because it really was. But it wasn’t as exciting as it was years ago, knowing that people had died out here, had gone through horrible things.

 

When Curtis first saw Shiro, and knew he’d be working with him, he was in awe. It wasn’t as though he thought Shiro was the most extraordinary thing to walk the earth, especially not now that actual aliens had. No, his bravery and confidence in his team was absolutely  _ stunning _ . Curtis wasn’t a stranger to attraction, but the pure adoration he’d felt when he’d seen Shiro giving the paladins encouraging speeches was… different. It wasn’t even necessarily romantic.

 

Now that he’d gathered his wits and approached Shiro, now that the war was over and everyone was calming down, Curtis wasn’t sure he’d ever been as awkward as he was in that moment. No one had gone separate ways yet, so all the paladins (save for Allura) were all gathered, and no-ne of them seemed to be necessarily happy. Curtis felt extremely out of place, rather invasive, but Shiro seemed to detect his nerves and invited him to sit down. He did as he was told, rather clunkily. God, this was a disaster.

 

Shiro cleared his throat, trying to get all of the paladins’ attention. As though they weren’t all looking in the first place. “This is Curtis,” he informed them, “He was a part of the Atlas crew. A rather important part,” he added, shooting Curtis a small smile.

 

Curtis wasn’t quite sure why that made him feel so good, but it put a smile on his face. It eased his nerves a bit. He looked away from Shiro’s face to meet the paladins’ gazes, “Yeah, that’s… that’s me,” he said in agreement. Really, he didn’t know what else to say. They all looked so depressed, and Curtis wasn’t dumb enough to not know why.

 

Eventually, the shortest of the group spoke up. “I’m Pidge. I piloted the green lion,” she introduced, “This is Lance. We love him,” she said, nudging the guy next to her with her elbow. “The one who’s too stiff to be comfortable is Keith. And this guy-,”

 

The boy with the headband smiled, cutting Pidge off with his own introduction. “I’m Hunk. I’m sorry we’re a bit anti-social right now, but I’m sure you know we just lost someone really important to us.”

 

Curtis offered a gentle smile, and everyone except for Lance managed a small one back. To cut off the tense silence, Shiro proposed they finish eating and then rest. Everyone was still exhausted from the fighting, as barely a week had passed. Curtis was undeniably surprised Shiro hadn’t cracked yet, but he was a brave war hero, and he kept himself together for his friends. 

 

____

 

Curtis and Shiro had split off from the rest of the group, and they’d all gone to ‘sleep’ or, in Lance’s case, mourn alone in their room. The two of them wandered the halls in comfortable silence, and Curtis had his hands in his pockets. They were always cold. He wasn’t sure why they were just walking. Curtis had planned on getting to know him, on understanding him more. That wasn’t really what happened, he supposed. He’d met his war-broken friends and was stuck wondering how he kept himself together.

 

Eventually, Curtis encouraged himself to speak up. “So, you’re a really amazing guy,” he said bluntly, glancing over at the former paladin beside him. Shiro looked amused, but his cheeks were just the slightest bit pink.

 

“Not incredibly. I didn’t do any more than the others,” Shiro responded, modest as always. He’d seemed to straighten up a bit at the compliment anyway.

 

A small grin spread across Curtis’ lips. “You piloted the black lion and you were, technically still are, the captain of the Atlas. That’s pretty  _ incredible,  _ sir.”

 

Shiro’s cheeks darkened, just a bit. His lips were pursed, and he was looking straight ahead. “You really don’t need to call me ‘sir’. Shiro is fine.”

 

Curtis’ grin widened, and he shook his head. “Get coffee with me,” he blurted, before his face and ears heated up. He hadn’t meant to jump right into it and immediately ask him to go out, but he had anyway, and now he was a spluttering mess. He waved his hands around erratically, partial sentences leaving his lips.

 

Shiro’s lips had parted, and his eyes widened a bit. He blinked at Curtis, watching his little flustered fit with big eyes. He huffed out an amused noise, “Okay. I’ll get coffee with you,” he said, effectively shutting Curtis up.

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

Shiro smiled at him, and Curtis could have sworn his heart melted. Shiro’s smile wasn’t uncommon, not in the least, and Curtis didn’t even actually like this guy. He supposed he just wasn’t a stranger to knowing when guys were pretty.

___

 

**16 November; 9:46 A.M.**

 

The first time they met, Shiro picked the place. Curtis would then pick that place for the next time they met, and it’d keep going back and forth, at that one place. Said place was a cute little coffee shop, filled with cute tables and decorations. The prices were good, and Curtis got a great coffee. He brought it back to the table, and sat it down to cool.

 

He’d picked a corner table by the window, so he sat his chin on his palm and looked out of it. He’d gotten there early so he wasn’t at all expecting Shiro to be there already. However, when it ticked a few minutes past the designated meeting time, Curtis got a bit fidgety. He had a few napkins, and a pen on him somewhere. He dug through his pocket and sat it on the table, before grabbing a napkin from the stack.

 

He was careful as he drew on the napkin, not wanting to tear his delicate canvas. The art came naturally, the ink creating a small drawing in his usual style. Unrealistic. He got so invested in the details that he didn’t notice the bells on the door chiming, or the footsteps approaching. He jumped when Shiro spoke.

 

“Nice avocado.”

 

Curtis almost had a heart attack then and there, but he just sighed and looked up at Shiro. His hair was wet, and he’d probably just showered. He looked overall fresh, so Curtis assumed so.

 

“Sorry I’m late,” Shiro frowned, lowering himself down into the seat across from Curtis. “I forgot I was on clean-up duty today, and I got it all done on time, but I accidentally knocked over  _ several  _ garbage cans, and I did not smell good, so-,”

 

“It’s okay,” Curtis cut in, internally yelling at himself for interrupting. “I entertained myself anyway. I do think my coffee got cold, though,” he mused, bringing the cup up to his lips. It wasn’t cold, but it was barely warm at this point.

 

Shiro smiled apologetically, “Sorry, again. I really wanted to be here on time. I don’t often get the chance to meet new people or… make friends. Thank you for inviting me,” he said earnestly. As he spoke, a barista approached and sat a drink down in front of Shiro.

 

“The usual,” she smiled, “On the house. For, you know, saving the world. Unlimited coffees for the hero,” she winked at him, and Shiro was  _ immediately  _ embarrassed.

 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” he told her, seemingly feeling bad for even being offered free drinks in the first place. Shiro apparently came often enough for him to have a usual drink, and Curtis, for some unknown reason, was glad they’d come here. “I’ll definitely be paying, Olivia. But thank you,”

 

Damn, Shiro was an overall amazing guy. Curtis had never seen him lose his temper, but he had a feeling that it was utterly terrifying, because he assumed it was rather rare. Seeing someone as sweet and caring as Shiro blow up would probably make a grown man (Curtis) shit themselves. He was a pretty gentle guy, but he was big and most definitely strong. Curtis definitely wouldn’t want to be decked with that prosthetic.

 

When the barista had left the table, Curtis looked over at Shiro. He wanted to know more about him, about his interests, but he wasn’t sure where to start. Shiro beat him to it, smiling at him and asking his own question.

 

“How long have you been drawing?”

 

Curtis really wasn’t expecting the question, but he supposed Shiro probably had the same reason to be here as he did- learning. “Ah, uh, about… fifteen years? I think I started when I was about eleven. I didn’t have the patience to practice before then,” he said, a bit unsure. “Have you ever tried art?” he inquired.

 

Shiro’s smile turned a bit more mischievous, “I tried a few times when I was younger. I  _ never  _ had the patience for it, unfortunately. I’m more of a writer. It’s easier for me to express myself, and I never really had to practice. It comes more naturally, I think. For me at least.”

 

Curtis raised his eyebrows, watching Shiro remove the sleeve on his coffee cup and set it on the table. After a few moments of hesitation, he grabbed it and brought it close enough for his pen to reach. He could feel Shiro’s gaze on him while he drew on the strangely textured object, up until the point he slid it back over to Shiro’s side of the table. When the drawing could be properly made out, Shiro laughed.

 

“You liked my avocado, so I drew you one for yourself,” Curtis told him, watching Shiro’s eyes light up. He supposed this was his more genuine smile. He was sure Shiro’s other smiles were a bit faker, considering he was in a more depressing place before.

 

“Thank you,” Shiro laughed again, putting the sleeve back on his cup. “I suppose I’ll keep this, then,” he said to Curtis, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Curtis was glad he’d gathered the courage to properly speak to Shiro, because his presence was soothing. It made him happy. He just had the ability to make him relax, and he rather glad the place they’d met was so quiet, soft classical music playing in the background.

 

They continued to converse until they were tired of each other, though that point never really came. They just wanted to go home and get away from the sudden wave of people that had decided to come into the coffee shop. They left at the same time, swearing to meet at that time and place again the next week. Shiro promised he’d be there early, this time around.

 

Curtis felt good.

___

 

**23 November; 9:58 A.M.**

 

Curtis and Shiro never really interacted after their outing, but their plans to meet stood firm, and they never contacted each other to say otherwise. It was rather foolish of them to meet and do things together when they had no way to tell the other they’d be late or weren’t going to show up. Curtis supposed it was just a bit of mutual trust, but it couldn’t be all that strong.

 

Curtis was once again waiting at the coffee shop, having been there ten minutes early. He’d currently been waiting for eight minutes, and he doubted Shiro would be late again, but he wouldn’t really put it past him. He wasn’t as put together as he seemed- he was a bit more nervous than Curtis would have expected. 

He eyed the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick closer and closer to the twelve. Shiro had less than a minute before he’d be considered late, but right at the hand hit the number, the door bells chimed. Curtis looked over at the door, and saw Shiro, a bit more bundled up than last time. It was getting progressively colder out, and it was obvious it affected Shiro.

 

Shiro smiled at him when he caught his gaze, before approaching the bar and giving his order. They promptly let him know they’d bring it to him, and he went to sit with Curtis. They were silent for a few moments, but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. They were never really awkward when they were quiet- though it had only happened a few times, it seemed to be pretty solid.

 

“Hi,” Shiro finally said, sounding a bit breathy. Curtis was especially aware of how pretty he really was, considering his cold-flushed cheeks.

 

“Hey,” Curtis returned, a bit out of it. He cleared his throat, wrapping his fingers around his coffee cup. “Sensitive to the cold?” he asked, clearly teasing. Curtis had grown up with the weather, so it wasn’t hard for him. 

 

Shiro huffed, pulling his gloves off and tucking them to the side of the table. They were plain, black, and soft. He rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit, before seeming satisfied. “Not really. Space is pretty chilly,” he acknowledged, “I did have protective gear, though. I was actually hot most of the time.”

 

Curtis hummed and took a sip of his drink, glancing over at the barista. She was approaching the table with a drink and a plate, a slice of blueberry pie sitting on it. It was the same barista from last time, and from the way she was ogling Shiro, she thought he was attractive (fair enough). 

 

She left with a smile after Shiro thanked her, and Curtis eyed the pie. It looked much too sugary for him. It had glaze on the top of it, and the blueberries definitely weren’t organic. There had to be tons of syrup or something in them, but Shiro was already half-way done with it when Curtis managed to turn his attention to reality.

 

Shiro’s cheeks turned pinker than they already were when Curtis blinked at him, and he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry. I haven’t had this in a long time. It’s my favorite from here. My mom used to make really good blueberry pie, and the staff here practically adopted the recipe.”

 

Curtis nodded, understanding why he was so eager to eat it again. “My mom never really baked. Or cooked regular food, actually. I think the most complicated thing she can make it spaghetti. It explains why I have absolutely zero cooking skill,”

 

Shiro grinned at him, “I suck at cooking, too. My mom never let me into the kitchen, for fear I’d add too much salt to anything she was making. After I did two cups of salt instead of two cups of sugar, I was banned from assisting her.”

 

“Oh, you’re a disaster,” Curtis laughed, shaking his head. He sipped his drink again. Coffee was pretty disgusting, wasn’t it? He was glad there was an option for less espresso than was basically given.

 

“They only gave me one extra shot,” Shiro said with a frown, after his first taste of his drink. It caused Curtis’ mind to slam on the brakes and consider what Shiro had just said.  _ Only one extra shot?  _ Curtis couldn’t even handle two, and Shiro didn’t think three was enough. Shots of alcohol, Curtis could handle. Shots of espresso? Oh boy, Curtis would cry.

 

“How many did you ask for?” Curtis inquired, genuinely curious how much caffeine Shiro was trying to take in. 

 

“Five,” he said plainly.

 

Curtis’ face scrunched up. Did Shiro want to die? Was that his plan? If it wasn’t from caffeine intake, it would be from extremely disgusting flavor. He couldn’t understand why anyone would do that to themself. 

 

“That’s disgusting,” Curtis told him, rather bluntly. 

 

Shiro practically scoffed, “Not if you get extra flavor in it,” he said, looking pouty now.

 

“Extra flavor?  _ Extra flavor?  _ You’re going to give yourself a heart attack. Do you know how bad coffee is for you? With all that sugar with it? I swear-,”

 

Shiro shushed him, taking a big drink of his coffee. “It tastes good. I think I deserve some good coffee, after having to deal with all the shit I did. Torture and death? Coffee-worthy. At least if I die this way, I’ll die doing what I love.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“Drinking coffee.”


End file.
